Criminal Politics of the Hogwarts Alumni
by PSZimbab
Summary: A criminal adventure story set in the early 2000s. From the perspective of a Dark OC. Harry Potter, a whizzkid detective has been tasked to take down Londons remaining criminal groups with the help of his friends, but what will happen when two of London's biggest crime rings host a merger. Rated M for language, violence and implied explicit content.
1. Introduction

Rated M for language, violence and implied explicit content. No outright Lemons. This story heavily features OCs. The story takes place in a "post war" Britain where Voldemort "crime lord Tom Riddle" died in a shootout with police in 1998. Harry Potter, the young high school dropout who became a rookie detective was skyrocketed to fame when he managed to land the fatal shot on Tom Riddle. The final shootout took place at a prestigious school in Scotland, Hogwarts Academy, which is coincidentally where Harry Potter and Tom Riddle went to school. It was also the school of many of the OC characters as well as some of the more familiar ones.

Harry Potter, now a famous detective has been tasked to destabilise and takedown the few crime rings left in London and greater Britain in the wake of Tom Riddles shattered criminal empire.

Saiph Lestrange wants to build his ragged little gang into a real force to be reckoned with, the only way he can see this happening is if he joins forces with an old classmate, Draco Malfoy, in order to form a criminal superpower.

Saiph specialises in the physical side, muggings, hired assaults and killings, fixed gambling and security. Saiph's the braun.

Draco specialises in the less present crimes, drug dealing, goods smuggling, weapons sales, extortion and blackmail. Draco's the brains.

This is a story that I have been writing for fun. I can guarantee updates for the first few chapters and I may continue updating after that if the story seems to gain traction.

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to any of the original Harry Potter characters E.g. Draco Malfoy, Tom Riddle, Ron Weasley.


	2. Chapter 2: Opening up Communications

Lettsome Estate, Peckham. The place was gritty, slimy and hostile. Some went as far as calling it a shithole. Lestrange had to concur.  
"Fuck this place is scungy" complained Skillet.  
Lestrange only grumbled his agreement. Peckham wasn't so bad, but this specific are of Lettsome was most definitely a shithole.

The men trudged down the compact street as the evening light gradually faded. The few storefronts that didn't seem to be boarded up had already locked shop, most would shy away from traversing Lettsome's streets at this time of the evening. Saiph Lestrange on the other hand, had business to attend to and he had brought security in the form of Noah Skillet, a monstrosity of a man standing far over six foot and having to weigh at least double Saiph's weight.  
"You're strapped?" Saiph asked.  
Noah chuckled "Of course boss, I'm always equipped…" he was silent for a moment "Aren't you?" he asked, a tint of confusion overlaying his question.  
Saiph shook his head briefly before picking up his pace. He had decided to leave his handgun in the car and he was starting to regret it, tonight's business was going to be messy.

From down the street came a muffle ruckus of screaming.  
"Nearly there" Noah grumbled.

The pair were on their way to an underground fight. The local bare-knuckle fight clubs were anything but legal, the unlicensed alcohol sale, unregistered gambling, the complete lack of any fighters who had an official competition license and even the blatant disregard for official Government approved fighting conduct. This place was really and completely… A shithole.  
But Saiph had Noah drive him into town none the less. The local fight clubs were all under thumb, Saiph had been rigging fights in these parts for years now.  
One fighter would start to get good, they would come up against some absolute nobody of an opponent and would then unusually get the shit kicked out of them. Leaving every gambler distraught and Saiph's pockets thoroughly stuffed. Gambling was easy to manipulate and Lettsome was quite possibly the biggest illegal gambling pit in London.

"Who else you got on board boss?" Noah questioned, his eyes cast forwards to the rundown auto shop that appeared to be hosting.  
Saiph thought for a moment "Um… Carrow, George Dolohov, Chiffley, Gibbon and Macnair."  
Noah whistled in approval "That's quite a team boss, I didn't know it was such a big occasion?" the man chuckled.  
Saiph growled "Twenty grand is a big occasion no matter how you look at it. Bentleys boy was supposed to throw the fight, but he went and fucked me over. The kid's lucky I'm giving him a shot at making the cash back!" he finished in anger.  
Noah made sure to voice his dissatisfaction "You're being a softy boss, just put some lead in the little shithead and dump his body. Simple."  
Saiph ignored the offhand comment and instead proceeded to the auto shop. A staunch looking man with dark skin stood by the door, the bouncer.  
"McNamara" Saiph greeted.  
The dark-skinned bouncer nodded whilst he stepped out of the doorway to let them through.

The interior of the building was surprisingly large. The place had been gutted of anything that could have determined its previous function, had it not have been for the sign out the front, they could have been in any run-down warehouse.  
People congregated around the middle of the room where there was probably a fight already going on. The screaming and shouting of the fights patrons was probably enough to prove that.  
To the side stood a few men shifting cheap home-made booze to the folks with a little more cash and Saiph swore he recognised one of the men standing in the far corner of the auto shop. A local dealer maybe?  
"Boss! Over here!" came a rough voice.  
Past the blokes selling the booze stood a huddle of men, one of which had called to him.  
Noah led the way as the pair shuffled over to greet the boys.  
Saiph reached out bumping fist and slapping palms "Chiffley, Dolohov" he acknowledged "Carrow, Macnair, you lot holding it down?"  
"Of course boss, the little shit is locked in a shed out back" laughed Damon Chiffley "Gibbon's watching him at the moment."  
Saiph smirked "Good, go give Carter a hand Noah" he commanded  
"Got it boss" the big man chorused.

The group of five men made their way over to the gambling booth. "Hold a five-grand piece on the Simpson boy, he's fighting next I think"  
The booky only laughed "You sure mate, Thompson has been tearing ass recently. I recon Simpson is gonna have his shit kicked in" but the booky put aside a five-grand bet for Saiph anyway.

"Let's go" Saiph commanded as he turned to make his way to the back door. 

* * *

The weather had been downcast nearly without pause all month, sales had been slow, three local businesses had missed their extortion payments and nobody seemed to want anything smuggled into the country and to top it off two of his most profitable dealers had been nabbed by the cops. Draco Malfoy, sitting in his office in a nondescript building in Stratford, really wasn't having a good week.

"Knock, knock" came a voice, accompanied by the tapping of knuckles on Draco's door.  
Draco moaned "What is it Rookwood?" he questioned.  
The door swung open and Sean Rookwood stepped into Draco's office "I've got news" he offered "Word is, the Selwyn brothers were the ones that got our Tottenham dealers locked up. They've got one of their own boys dealing on our corner right now."  
"Fuck!" Draco shouted throwing a stapler at the door "This can't possibly get any worse, I thought we had the Selwyn's pushed out ages ago?"  
Sean looked nervous, the stapler had only just missed his head "Apparently not, sorry boss" he apologised.  
Draco moaned once again "Well there isn't anything we can do about it right now is there? Half of our muscle is locked up after the last push and recruitment has gone to the dogs!"  
Rookwood pursed his lips "Well maybe… we could get some outside help?"  
"And who, you blithering idiot, would be stupid enough to help us push out the Selwyn's?" Draco snarled.  
Rookwood ran a nervous hand through his scratchy brown hair "Lestrange?" he offered. 

* * *

On the other side of London, in a house opposite Wembley stadium on the south side sat Saiph.  
"No need to accommodate us Mrs Chiffley!" he called out.  
He was sitting in a compact little lounge room on the first floor of a quaint old house. The walls were plastered in a floral design, old family photos hung above the mantelpiece, the sofas were strewn with poufy old cushions and an old box television sat against the far wall. Saiph was sitting in Damon's nans living room with Damon, Noah and Lowan Avery.  
The soft chuckles of Damon's nan came drifting into the living room where the men were all seated "Nonsense boys, you're all such a pleasure to have around. I don't get many visitors anymore, so you are all quite welcome" the old lady had been carrying a massive tray of freshly baked scones "I'll go get you boys some jam and cream" she offered.

Lowan turned to Damon "Mate your nan's well fit!" he joked.  
"I swear to Christ mate; next time we're shooting up some junky hideout my gun is gonna 'accidentally' fire off in your leg!" Damon threatened.  
Noah laughed "Leave the lads nan alone won't you Lowan?" he laughed again "We are on business, aren't we?"  
Saiph chuckled, business wasn't exactly the right word. They were supposed to be meeting up with Sean Rookwood, Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott, a bunch of boys working for Draco Malfoy, one of London's most wanted. Where Saiph and his boys worked more along the lines of hired work such as muggings, attacks and killing, Malfoy worked mainly in things like smuggling and drug dealing.  
"We're meeting some of Malfoys lads" Saiph confirmed.  
Damon laughed "And we have to meet them at a football match, what? To avoid suspicion? What a ponce!"  
Noah chimed in "He has got a right nasty silver spoon up his ass. Didn't he go to school with you boss?" the burly man asked.  
Saiph nodded "Same as Lowan here, he went to school with most of the important boys in our group, his lot are also mostly made up of blokes he knew from school."  
Damon chuckled "You posh bastards!" he accused "Where was it again? Some ivory tower boarding school in Scotland? Hogwarts Academy, wasn't it? The one where Riddle got gunned down by that Harry Potter Prick?"  
"Sorry my parents were loaded Chiffley!" Lowan snapped.  
Damon only continued to laugh. 

* * *

"Where are they?" questioned Blaise Zabini.  
A gentle sprinkle of rain had picked up and the wind was howling. The football match had started five minutes ago and Blaise, Theo and Sean were standing at the front gates of the stadium like a bunch of idiots.  
The enthusiastic chanting of the fans could probably have been heard at Greenford.  
"Wembley stadium is it lads?" Shouted a voice from the stadiums front gates "What are you lots still standing out there for?" the man at the gates shouted.  
The men turned around, standing at the gates was Noah Skillet. His enormous frame and distinct red hair were his identifying features.  
Theo and Blaise tensed up. The two of them weren't used to street work and were therefore unfamiliar with the enormous man. Sean on the other hand, being more of an in-person sort of guy had had many interactions with Noah.  
"Is it just you?" Sean shouted "Malfoy specifically asked to set up a meeting with Lestrange!" he warned.  
Noah laughed "Calm your tit's Rookwood, Saiph is already at the box. Come in already, it's fuckin cold out here!"  
And with that, the burly man turned around and walked back into the stadium. Sean lead the way, Theo and Blaise following right behind him. They scanned their passes and hurried inside to catch up with Noah.

"Look who finally showed up!" Saiph sneered as Malfoys three henchmen follow Noah into the box.  
Avery made a theatrical glance around the box "Nice place you lot have here, shame they just let anyone in."  
"They don't!" Blaise grumbled.  
Damon laughed "Oh that's right, we ended up having to pick the lock because you lot took your sweet fuckin time."  
"We were waiting out the front!" Theo shot back.

The football match went on and so did the negotiations, the stadium filling with deafening cheers every time a team scored.  
"So, what you're asking me to do, is to start a turf war with the Selwyn's so that you lot can have some of your turf back?" Saiph asked.  
"Close enough" Blaise mumbled.  
Saiph looked completely baffled "And why the fuck would I do that?" he asked.  
Sean jumped in "Think of it as a favour, you do us this, and we jump back into the fray to take the reins once we've got a bit more muscle on our side."  
"That sounds in no way profitable no matter how you look at it!" Lowan warned.  
Theo contemplated "Like a peace offering maybe, to start building a bridge for future… collaboration, let's say?"  
"Didn't you lot just have a turf war with the Selwyn's, and now you want another" Noah asked.  
Sean moaned "We did, but apparently they didn't come out of it as badly as we had thought."  
Saiph looked out the window and down onto the pitch where the players were passing the ball "You have a burner phone?" Saiph asked.  
Blaise frowned in indignation "Of course we do, we aren't amateurs!"  
Saiph raised an eyebrow "I know for a fact Zabini that you are definitely an amateur, I've never done business with you in my life! I was really just asking Rookwood!"  
"I have a burner" Sean confirmed.  
Saiph sighed "Give me the number and we'll get in contact if we decide that this favour is actually worth anything. You're asking for a lot you know?" he patronised.  
"We know" Theo grumbled.  
Saiph shook his head "Whatever. Let's go" he motioned to his boys.  
Noah, Damon and Lowan all got up to follow Saiph out of the box, leaving Sean, Blaise and Theo behind.

"We really are fucked, aren't we?" Theo mumbled.  
Sean chuckled "Probably."


End file.
